


Scorpius's Ferret

by Tathrin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animals, Family, Gen, HP: Epilogue Compliant, One-Shot, Post-Canon, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-01
Updated: 2010-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tathrin/pseuds/Tathrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Scorpius goes shopping with his mother, and sees a certain animal in the window...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorpius's Ferret

One of Scorpius Malfoy’s earliest memories is from the springtime when he was four years old. He was shopping with mother. He loved going shopping with mother, and not just because he always came home with a present. He liked going along because it made him feel grown-up and important, because mother would ask him for his opinion about things, and he got to help her pick out which ones he liked best of whatever she was there to buy, even really important things like new books for their library or what they were going to get father for his birthday.

He especially liked when she went shopping for new robes, because he got to sit and eat candy while he waited for her to try on the different ones, and then she would come out and show him (she was so pretty, his mother, and she wore such pretty things) and Scorpius would tell her which ones he thought were the prettiest, and she would listen to him like he was someone who knew what he was talking about, like he was a grown-up, and he would help her choose which ones to buy. Then they would have mother’s packages sent home and they would go and eat ice cream together and talk about anything at all while mother pretended not to notice how messy he was getting until he was done and then she’d act surprised and cast a cleaning spell, and it tickled and made him giggle.

He liked going shopping with father, too, although he didn’t go as often as mother did. But they went to different stores, then, for the most part, and Scorpius was very excited because he was old enough now to go with father to the apothecary. Father liked to brew things in cauldrons, and Scorpius was allowed to help with that now, too, so father would let him pick out different herbs and things to experiment with, even things that the shopkeepers muttered that no one that young had any business touching, but father told them to mind their own business, because Scorpius was perfectly old enough to know better than to be reckless with potions, and Scorpius had felt very grown-up when father said that and he made sure to always be on his very best behavior in the apothecary’s, and the shopkeeper there had grudgingly praised his decorum once, and given him a sweet swizzle stick, and that had made Scorpius feel very special and mature.

But this one, most singular time, when Scorpius and mother were on their way to the ice cream parlor after picking out her robes, one of the shops they passed had a new display up. Scorpius always liked looking in the windows of the different shops along Diagon Alley, and not just because he’d get to pick out a present (or sometimes two or three when he had trouble deciding) as a reward for behaving so well and helping mother shop. He just liked seeing all the wonderful, fascinating things that were for sale. But the two things he liked looking at most of all were the broomsticks and the animals.

Today the animals in the window were ones that Scorpius had never seen before, but he fell in love with them right away. They were skinny, furry little things, all long bodies and sharp, curious faces, with pointy little tails and dainty paws that they used to climb all over the place. He pressed his face to the window and grinned, waving to the little creatures. “Mother, I want one!” he cried happily, knowing that he wouldn’t have any trouble picking out his present today.

But for the first time, mother said no. Scorpius was shocked. No one had ever told him he couldn’t have something he’d wanted before and he was a little bit bewildered. The only times he got told “no,” were when he asked for things that were dangerous, and then it was always a, “not until you’re older, but in the meantime, how about this instead?” like when he wanted a racing broom, and father insisted that he wasn’t ready for a full-sized one yet; or when he’d asked grandfather for something out of that shop he wasn’t supposed to tell grandmother they’d gone to, and grandfather had promised to get it for him when he was old enough, saying that it was too dangerous for even very clever four-year-olds, so Scorpius would have to be patient.

But mother didn’t say _later_ , she said _no_.

Scorpius didn’t know what to do. He’d walked away from the little creatures feeling very strange and confused, but over their extra-large helping of ice cream, mother had explained.

Scorpius’s father, when he was young although not so young as Scorpius was now, had once had a very frightening, embarrassing thing happen to him. A very cruel, petty man, mother told him, had gotten angry at father, and had used magic to turn him into a small creature called a ferret. He had done this in front of a lot of people, who had all laughed at father, and said very cruel things and made fun of him because of it. Scorpius’s father, of course, did not like being reminded of this thing that had happened to him, but if Scorpius brought home one of those furry, clever little animals he had wanted, then father would be, because those were ferrets. Did Scorpius want to do that?

Of course he didn’t. He never, ever wanted to do anything that would upset his father, and he certainly didn’t want to make him sad. He loved his father. He didn’t want a ferret at all, Scorpius said, not ever. And mother had said that that was very mature of him, to realize that his actions could cause other people pain, and it was almost always a good thing to refrain from doing things that could hurt other people, or make them feel badly, and she was very proud of him.

Then she’d bought him a very fine broomstick—one for children, of course, not a proper racing broom, but still a faster, better one than his old broom—and new Quidditch balls and gear to go with it, because there was a shiny new set out that claimed to have better enchantments and certainly came in a prettier box than the one he’d gotten for Christmas. And they’d gone back to the candy store for more treats, and by the time they’d gotten home Scorpius had been too tired to do anything before dinner but go lie down with a book that he probably wasn’t going to read but he certainly wasn’t going to take a nap, he was too old for naps, and he’d never said anything to father at all because he didn’t want to ever mention ferrets since that would have upset him.

But the day had stuck in Scorpius’s mind with crystal clarity ever since. It wasn’t just the first time he’d been refused something he wanted, which would have probably been shock enough to make it memorable. But it was also the first time that Scorpius had entertained the idea that his father—his wonderful, perfect, invincible father, whom Scorpius wanted to be just like someday when he was old enough—his father maybe, just maybe, might not always be so utterly indomitable, unassailable, and unbeatably perfect.

Maybe sometimes, Draco Malfoy could lose, could be bested, like he was just another ordinary person.

Scorpius found the idea rather frightening.

 

* * * *

 

Scorpius Malfoy never discussed that day with his father, or with anyone, because he didn’t want to bring up something that would make his father feel badly, but he never forgot it. And he never, ever mentioned ferrets.

Thus it was with a great deal of shock that, some years later, Scorpius watched a silvery animal burst from the end of his wand and realized that the creature he had just cast was distinctly ferret shaped.

The spell broke, the Patronus vanishing so quickly that only his Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and Albus Potter, his best friend standing next to him, had seen what it was. Scorpius went pale, horrified with himself, and refused to cast the spell again. It was the only time he’d ever failed to produce a passable spell for class, and he took the failing mark silently.

When he wrote to his parents about it he lied, the first time he had ever told such a blatant, deliberate falsehood to Draco and Astoria Malfoy. He told them that he simply couldn’t manage the spell, couldn’t make a corporeal Patronus at all. His parents were very understanding and supportive, saying that it was hardly fair of the professor to give him such a poor grade. It was terribly difficult, complex magic, and well beyond fourth year capabilities, and surely there were other students in the class who couldn’t manage such a tricky spell, weren’t there?

Scorpius had had a difficult time convincing his parents not to confront the professor about it. There had been plenty of students who hadn’t managed to produce a corporeal Patronus—most of the class in fact—but the professor had seen Scorpius make one, for a moment, and felt that he was deliberately refusing to put in the effort for some unknown reason. He’d wanted to know why, and maybe if Scorpius had explained, as he did to Albus, later, his professor would have understood, but Scorpius had refused; had stubbornly declared that he just couldn’t do it, knowing all along that the professor knew he was lying but refusing to change his story. So he’d been given a failing grade and lots of furtive, questioning looks, and he’d received it all silently, deliberately botching the spell every time they were made to practice it in class, and had vowed that he would never cast a Patronus again.

He knew if he did, and people found out what it was, his father would be reminded of something he didn’t want to think about, and he would be hurt to think that his son was so callous that he would choose _that_ for his Patronus.

He wouldn’t have, not if he could have chosen. He and Albus spent days practicing the spell in secret, Scorpius trying desperately to coax the silvery creature into changing to a different form, but to no avail. So Scorpius decided that if that was what he would have as a Patronus, his choice was clear: he simply wouldn’t have one. Besides, he felt so wretched every time he saw the skinny, furry creature come out of the end of his wand that the spell never lasted more than a moment anyway.

The reason, of course, that his Patronus was a ferret should have been obvious if he’d been able to think about it logically instead of reacting with instinctive revulsion and self-disgust and trying to ignore it. From the age of four, Scorpius Malfoy had identified ferrets with his father, and in Scorpius’s mind there was nothing and no one more likely and better able to keep him safe than Draco Malfoy. If Scorpius was going to conjure anything for protection, it was only to be expected that it would be something that reminded him of his father and unfortunately, but understandably, that something was a ferret.

In truth, if Draco had known, he probably would have been touched. Oh, there would have been the awkward initial reaction, of course, for Draco Malfoy was distinctly un-fond of ferrets, for obvious reasons; but once he realized _why_ his son’s Patronus was so uncomfortably familiar a creature, he surely would have been, if anything, flattered that his son’s ideal of a protective icon would be something that reminded Scorpius of his father. He would have been overwhelmed by the regard in which his son held him, so much so that he probably wouldn’t have minded at all those old, unwelcome associations that ferrets still held for him.

But he would never know, because Scorpius would never, ever tell him.


End file.
